Alcohol
by Sagecycle
Summary: Morty is spiraling into madness, his only outlet, alcohol.


Just like everyone in his fucked up family, Morty had his own problems. Being fourteen came with complications. School was something he could never do quite right, the stress of the day leaving him high strung and irritable. His home life was strained, his mother and father constantly arguing and making his day worse. His sister was always on her phone hiding from reality and don't even get him started on his grandfather, the prick.

So when you say Morty had ways with dealing with stress and anxiety, he did, after all alcoholism runs in the family. Keeping a few of his mother's bottles of wine hidden in his dresser and somehow managing to sneak one of his grandfather's bottles of whiskey, he'd drown his pain in the hard stuff. Morty knew that his family was bound to find out sooner or later, his grandfather having a strong love for his liquor and his mother, despite being one of the shittest parents, could still tell when her son was in a bind.

Late at night, when everyone was fast asleep, he'd crack open his newest bottle and indulge a bit. Hangovers weren't something he had to worry about. His mother and grandfather were too drunk in the morning to notice his spiral into madness and his sister was too busy in her phone to care. His dad was the one he had to impress. He'd compliment the man, stroking his ego to hide the fact that his son was losing himself.

Morty almost regrets his decisions, how would his family react once they pull their heads out their asses and finally realize that their lives weren't the only ones being ruined. For now though, Morty would throw his head back and drink. He'd drink until he passed out in a puddle of his own vomit and piss. He'd drink until he forgets about his problems and his strife. He'd drink until he forgot his own damn name and after all that, he'd drink some more.

It took months before his family caught on. His grandfather had barged into his room during one of his late night sessions and almost flipped his shit. Even though his grandfather was the biggest prick in the universe, he had to admit, he cared deeply about him. Rick had pried the bottle from Morty's shaking hands, frowning when he realized that the bottle was already empty and a few more was strewn about the room. Seeing how Morty swayed on his bed, eyes glassed over and his face flushed red, Rick assumed that Morty had been doing this long before he caught on.

Carrying the drunken teen to the bathroom, he laid him down in the tub, turning on the shower to hopefully sober the kid up to pull some answers from him. Rick's growing agitation only grew when he saw Morty pass out, is vomit covered shirt sticking to his chest and drool dribbling down his chin. Fighting back the worry that ebbed to take hold, Rick washed the boy clean, pulling his dirty clothes off of him and wrapping him in a soft towel before picking him up and carrying him back to his bedroom. Lying Morty down in his own bed, he covered his shivering body with his blanket, hesitant to leave him alone in such a poor state.

Rick knew he wasn't a good man, not by a mile. He knew he was a shitty dad and a worse grandpa, but he knew how to help now. Fetching a cup of water and some painkillers for when Morty woke up, he left the room, not before cleaning up the empty bottles and ransacking the place for any extras. Rick was almost surprised when he found about eleven empty ones and three others that had yet to be opened. Although he was glad to find out what was happening to all his liquor, he wished he had just misplaced them instead of finding his fourteen year old grandson sipping from the poison that he and his daughter were already so acquainted with.

Rick kept tags on all the alcohol in the house, making sure that if one bottle went missing, he'd go and check Morty first. The kid seemed a bit on edge after his grandfather found out, but Rick never told Beth. He figured that if Morty had done all this in secret, he didn't want people prying. He did drop hints every now and then to Morty, making sure that if he ever wanted to just let out what was trapped in his head to come to him.

It took even longer for Morty to finally gather the courage to tell Rick, but once he did, man did he feel so much better. Rick had seemed to understand wholeheartedly, not once cracking a cruel joke or laughing when Morty grew too emotional to speak. Rick just sat there, patient with him and listened until Morty had nothing else to say. Rick didn't tell him to get over it, he didn't offer any advice, he just told Morty that he was there if he needed him again.

That seemed to become the normal for the two, Morty would come to Rick for someone to lean on and Rick would sit and listen quietly as Morty spilled himself to him. Rick would take him somewhere special afterwards, hoping to lessen the pain that had already grown too deep to fully relieve.

Years after, when Rick passed away from old age, Morty was there for his funeral. His mother and father were divorced, had been for some time now and no longer cared about who Rick was. Summer had gone off to college with one of her boyfriends and only God knows what happened to her. Morty was left alone at the young age of twenty three when his best friend died. Like a lightswitch, Morty was back to drinking again. He no longer had to steal from his mother and grandpa, he could go out and buy his own with little money he scrounged up. He lost himself in the drink, finding solace in the numbing it had on him.

When Morty was drunk, he didn't have to deal with the constant pain of his best friend's passing, he didn't have to deal with the slobs he sold himself to for cash, he didn't have to deal with anything, all he had to do was toss his head back and swallow the fiery liquid.

It didn't take long for his liver to catch up with him. At the age of thirty five, Morty's liver was shutting down. He didn't regret it, not once did he think back and wish he had never picked up that bottle. He was grateful when he closed his eyes for the last time, never again to open them. He died at the age of thirty six, cause of death liver failure.


End file.
